


Baby's First Kidnapping

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Precious Memories [1]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6310291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra Wayne had just been kidnapped, so why is Brucie smiling?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby's First Kidnapping

Bruce Wayne was concentrating on something on his WEpadd as his driver took him back to the Manor. Mr. Wayne got to leave work before rush hour, a perk of being the boss. The population at large and his driver (Glass, Mark, former henchman for Riddler, scared straight after a confrontation with Batman, good behavior and early release from a six year stretch, grateful to find a decent paying job with a felony on his record), believed Brucie Wayne went home to get ready for a night of partying. Why this took several hours was the cause of much speculation. Brucie never answered when asked, just smirked like he couldn’t believe they didn’t know.

When his phone rang, Bruce pulled it out and frowned at it before answering. Words weren’t really Cass’ thing, and she was more likely to drive out to where Bruce was to say something than to call or text, so maybe he was a little worried when he answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Wayne,” came a slightly distorted voice, probably the man was holding some cloth over the speaker of the phone. It wouldn’t be any match for modern voice recognition software, so Bruce found a new app on his very specialized WEpadd. 

“We have your girlfriend.” 

“My what?” Bruce had to ask, not only to buy time to start the trace function on Cass’ GPS. 

“Your girlfriend, mistress, jail bait, whatever you call the bitch in that fancy Uptown apartment.” 

“Uptown Gotham? I’ve got fancy apartments all over the world, and more than one in Gotham.” 

There was muttered cursing over the phone, and a second kidnapper spoke. Bruce made an adjustment so he could hear beyond the range of the typical speaker in a WEphone. 

“What’s your name?” 

There was no response, which sounded like Cass. Then there was a slap, and yes, she experienced worse when sparring, but it still pissed Bruce off. Though, he really was going to have to find her an acting teacher, because she probably wasn’t even pretending to be scared or hurt. 

“Check her purse.” A third voice spoke up, the brains of the group. That wasn’t saying much, as none of the three realized Bruce’s modern phone had caller ID. Muttering, cursing, and fumbling made a nice soundtrack to the silent tracer program. Bruce rolled his eyes when it narrowed her location down to downtown Gotham. His program, the work of him, Barbara and Tim, was excellent, but had to work in the existing infrastructure of overcrowded cell towers and satellites. 

“Her driver’s license says Cassandra Wayne.” The second voice had a ton of awe in his voice, but the first voice was greedy when he spoke into the phone again. 

“We have your daughter, Cassandra Wayne.” 

Bruce gasped, and made sure he sounded scared when he forced out, “Proof of life! Let me talk to her!” 

More fumbling, and a voice demanding Cass speak. Since they weren’t even on speakerphone, Bruce figured the idiots were giving him a chance to speak privatly with Cass. Morons deserved what was coming. 

“Father.” Cass spoke, calm as he expected. If she got bored, she’d start staring at her captors with those judging eyes, which would explain why all three of them felt they needed to stand around and make a ransom call. Most of his questions would get answered later, when they found her, like how and when she was taken, but only one question tugged at his curiosity. 

“Why did you let them take you?” 

“Other captives, and a boss.” 

The phone was taken away, with an excess of noise that indicated they’d had to force it out from where her neck and shoulder met. 

“She’s alive, for now. We want one, no, five million dollars if you want to see her alive again.” 

Their final location began to flash on his map, so he was fighting a grin when he replied in a panicked voice. “I’ll pay, just don’t harm her!” 

Gravel dinged against the undercarriage of the car, and Bruce looked up to realize his driver was pale, and paying more attention to the phone conversation that his job. Jabbing the mute button on his phone, Bruce snapped out at him. “Road.” 

The driver jerked and looked away from the rear-view mirror to get the car back on the road. Bruce unmuted his phone, but the kidnappers weren’t finished yet. Bruce had their location, he was about ten minutes from the manor, and he’d kind of like to get on with it. By ‘it’ he meant a brutal beat down and long jail sentence. If they’d bruised Cass, he might even break a few limbs. 

“We’ll call back tomorrow, so get the money tonight. Cash, small bills, non-sequential.” Thug one demanded, and maybe it was because he was somewhere between Brucie and Batman, but Bruce spoke up instead of ending the phone call. 

“Non-sequential? What does that mean?” The long silence on the other end proved to Bruce that he was right, and it was only something these punks had heard in a movie sometime. 

“Ask your banker when you pick up our five million!” Shouted the third voice. 

“Just tell your banker what I said,” The first voice said into the phone, “or we’ll raise it to ten million and have fun with your girl here.” 

There was a beep, as if they were hanging up the phone, but they didn’t actually manage to do so. Bruce listened as they congratulated each other, and that sounded like a chest bump. Phil and Ed only called the third voice, the smart one, Ace, which sounded like a nickname he’d given himself. 

Mike opened the door, so Bruce disconnected the call. The only suspicious thing on his WEpadd for Mike to see was a note to get acting lessons for Cass. 

“Sir, I can drive you to the cops. For you, Commish Gordon would take charge.” 

“Thanks, Mike, but they said no police.” Bruce shrugged, guessing that had slipped their minds; it had probably been a while since they saw that kidnapping how-to movie. “I’ve got private security anyway, the best money can buy.” 

Alfred had opened the door instead of waiting inside to open it when Bruce was closer, Alfred’s way of showing support and curiosity without losing his professional detachment. 

“Alfred, we’ve got some phone calls to make.” Brucie said as he walked away from his worried driver and into his house. With the door closed behind him, Bruce turned to Alfred, without planning out what his face would show. 

“Cass allowed herself to be kidnapped to learn about their operation.” 

Alfred’s eyes crinkled, and his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. “Congratulations, sir. You will make a detective of her yet.” 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Cowardly and superstitious, yes, but criminals were also lazy and stupid. They’d learn to double the guards after sunset, but not to look up as they made their rounds. But with proof of a crime, innocents held under guard, a good plan, and rooftop access, Batman would emerge. It was easier to fight in the dark, when the dark costumes blended in and gave the element of surprise, but a bat-boot to the head hurt at any time of the day. Plus, a major criminal operation that had existed in Gotham without Batman becoming aware of it made him cranky. 

For six months, the construction company that owned this warehouse had been working on the warehouse next to it, without any visible signs of work being done. That under-construction warehouse was, conveniently, owned by the brother-in-law of the owner of the construction company. Illegal immigrants who paid and struggled to get smuggled into Gotham found their children were held for ransom. Not being able to go to the cops without risking deportation, the immigrants had worked to pay the ransom. 

The owner of the construction company had a son, who wanted to prove his worth in the organization. When he’d seen a rich young woman who lived alone, he’d grabbed his two cronies to help kidnap her at gunpoint. They’d followed her to an apartment, and seen the name on the mailbox in the lobby. Figuring Wayne was her sugar daddy, they hadn’t researched any further. They’d taken a gun because their raciest stereotyping said the little China doll probably knew Kung Fu or something. They weren’t ready for the annoyed look she’d given the illegally modified automatic handgun. She’d gone quietly though, and they hadn’t even needed to blindfold her. 

Nightwing came in the windows on the west side of the warehouse, interrupting a poker game where the winning hand was to not have guard duty that night. Nightwing figured they were all winners if that’s all that it took. Red Robin took care of the office, where he expected the big boss to be. Notifying the others that he wasn’t, Red Robin connected the computers to Oracle and started looking for a paper trail proof of guilt. Oracle made sure to redistribute any ill-gotten funds hidden in bank accounts. 

Robin was sent to deal with the basement, not because he was kind and understanding, but because he was a kid, and not the adults the victims had learned to fear. Robin grumbled all the way into Gotham about preferring to be feared, but did his part as instructed. Spoiler took the south skylights, Red Hood providing cover as they took out the gun running operation. Of course, nobody moved until the signal was given, until Batman swung into the loading dock doors, the shouts and shots and general confusion starting the attack. 

The fight was pretty short, and mostly over by the time Cass wondered out of the storage closet she was being held in. The bad guys were too busy finding unconsciousness to wonder at her lack of fear or any other reaction to the fight. Batman noticed her, dropped his thug with a busted knee and turned to look at her. A moment of stillness, and Cass’ eyes grow huge as she beamed a smile at Batman. Then he was moving, back into the fight, and Spoiler was throwing her arm around Cass Wayne. 

“What he say?” Spoiler asked. 

“Proud. Of me.” Cass didn’t seem to believe it, but her smile was still there. 

“He’s so proud of you, you’ve come a long way baby.” Spoiler giggled at her own joke, one Cass didn’t get. “You could have wiped the floor with those guys when they tried to take you, but you walked into this. No armor, only your brains and skills to rely on, to try and save other people. You waited for assistance, to protect your identity, but we all know you’d give that up in a heartbeat if it’d save someone. We’re all proud of you.” 

Cass ducked her head to hide shy smile before she looked up. “I licked the floor with them. They wanted to move the rich prize.” 

“First, it’s wiped the floor, not lick. Eww. Second, tell the cops it was me, sneaking in and beating them up, I could use the rep. Third, you’re a material witness, you have to stay and talk to the cops.” 

Cass looked longingly at the window Nightwing was perched in, making sure the bad guys were down for the count. 

“Perks of being a vigilante, you’ve only got explain yourself to big daddy Bat. He said to give them this card when the cops try to get your statement.” Spoiler handed over a business card, and Cass pocketed it without looking. With a punch to the upper arm, Spoiler went to sneak back into the shadows. With a sigh, Cass returned to her storage closet, to make sure the boss and his son wouldn’t wake up before the cops got to them. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

They’d run out of shock blankets with how many kids they were pulling out of the basement, so the young woman in the storage closet had to wait to be found. Now, sitting on an unopened crate, probably weapons considering what was in the warehouse, she looked more like a reporter than a victim. Gordon knew he’d seen her before, but he couldn’t place her. 

He hadn’t been with the cops that opened the storage closet, but he’d been told what they found. Bullock said she’d been sitting in the chair she’d been tied to at some point, as there was rope around the chair back and legs. Somebody had knocked out the four men at her feet and untied her. One of the men matched the description of the warehouse owner, so he’d been taken into custody quickly. 

With the rest of his team occupied, Gordon went to take her statement. He might have been hoping she’d tell him where they’d met before. Maybe she was a friend of Barbara’s? 

“What’s your name miss?” 

She sat up straighter and smiled, as if this was the greatest thing she could be asked. “Cassandra Wayne.” 

And with that, Gordon understood. This girl had shown up after the quake, and placed herself between Gordon and Cain. Somehow, she’d found her way to Wayne, who’d adopted her just before he was accused of murder. Cass stayed in Wayne’s shadow, not doing any of the things that kept the paparazzi’s attention, but they didn’t know what Barbara had explained to Gordon. Wayne was framed for murder by Cain, for taking his daughter from him, this woman who wasn’t bothered by a kidnapping. What had being Cain’s daughter been like, that this didn’t even phase her? 

“Miss Wayne, I’ll drive you home shortly, but I need to get a statement from you.” 

Miss Wayne nodded, but pulled a business card out of her pocket. Gordon took the card, which gave the name John Jones and a phone number, nothing else. Gordon had never had to call a lawyer to get a statement from a victim, but he remembered the Miss Wayne that had saved his life hadn’t even talked. He was tempted to call Barbara, but instead called Mr. Jones. 

“Hello?” The man answered after only two rings, as it was early for a Bat-raid and lawyers were still awake. 

“This is Commissioner Gordon. I was given your card by Cassandra Wayne.” It was a statement, but Gordon hoped Jones realized it was a question. Why was I given your card and what are you going to do about it? 

“Ah, yes, Miss Wayne is an intelligent young woman, but English is not her native language. I will arrive shortly to interpret.” 

Gordon frowned, but gave him the address. Then he had to notify the perimeter to let the man through when he showed up. 

“Commish!” Bullock was calling, so Gordon got off his radio and turned to him. 

“Wayne’s driver is downtown, trying to report a kidnapping.” 

“Trying to?” Gordon asked of all the questions that floated into his brain. 

“Ex-con, and the desk sergeant had arrested him before, didn’t want to believe him. Driver had to wait for shift change to explain he’d overheard Wayne receiving a ransom call on the way home today.” 

“Let me guess, the victim is Wayne’s daughter?” Gordon managed to reply without laughing, or crying. 

“Driver only heard “she” but it could be.” Bullock shrugged. “Why?” 

Gordon sighed and reminded himself that Bullock had his strengths. He then turned to smile at the victim. “Miss Wayne, this is detective Bullock. He’ll take your statement when Mr. Jones arrives to translate.” 

Miss Wayne nodded, and Gordon went to find something useful to do. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Bullock got the statement while Gordon was elsewhere, so he didn’t get to meet Mr. Jones. Gordon did read over the statement, and the wording of it made him wonder if Mr. Jones had ever been a cop. Jones was gone, so it was a silent drive as Gordon drove Miss Wayne to stately Wayne Manor. She had an apartment in town, or so Gordon learned from the contact information on the statement, but he wanted to talk to Wayne. 

Alfred opened the door as Gordon cut off his engine, and Miss Wayne was out of the car before Gordon finished messing with his seat belt. Alfred offered to take his coat, but Gordon only smiled at his friend. The taciturn man had less to say as the years went by, and Gordon didn’t bother trying to chat when Alfred was in professional butler mode. 

“I’ll keep my coat, since I can’t stay long. Batman got an early start tonight, and I think his kids are playing thug tag across Gotham.” 

“Very good, sir.” Alfred offered, but Gordon could tell he was amused. 

“I do have to talk to Mr. Wayne.” 

“I’m here,” Bruce Wayne called, emerging from the library. His hair was wet, but who showered with a missing kid? 

Miss Wayne emerged from the kitchen, if the bowl of noodles in her hand was any kind of clue. She hadn’t mentioned being hungry, so none of the cops had thought about feeding her. 

“Mr. Wayne, your driver came to headquarters to report the ransom call he overheard. He had some trouble being believed, which is something I’ll have to deal with later. We’d already found her, with some other kidnap victims, so I had to wonder why you didn’t call to report her missing.” Gordon tried not to sound too annoyed by this. 

“I had my private security on it.” Wayne shrugged and looked as if he thought that covered it all. 

“Private security firms know they should coordinate with us, so if nothing else we don’t pull them over for speeding on the way to ransom demands. If they were any good, they should have told you that.” 

“Right. I’ll try and make sure to remember that for the next time.” 

“Yeah,” Gordon half muttered. He had questions, so many, but he’d heard six sightings of the Robins on the ride out here, and he needed to get back to work. Hopefully Daddy Bat was playing referee. 

“Just make sure she’s emotionally okay, and we’ll be in touch if we need to follow up on her statement.” 

“Thank you, Commissioner Gordon.” Brucie Wayne smiled at him, so with a nod, Gordon headed out. Alfred escorted him, but at the door he turned to look back. Bruce had pulled Cass into a hug, and she held out her empty bowl with a steady arm, even as she seemed to melt into Bruce. 

Yeah, it looked like she’d be alright, and Gordon had work to do. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

**Author's Note:**

> [Buy Me a Coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/W7W35853)


End file.
